


Career Day

by athenasdragon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley being godfathers, Crowley embarrasses himself in front of children for once, Gen, book!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenasdragon/pseuds/athenasdragon
Summary: Adam convinces Aziraphale and Crowley to come to his school for Career Day. (Another shorter work moved over from Tumblr.)





	Career Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote a couple of years ago, so it's very firmly in the book!characterizations and not the tv show, but you're more than welcome to read and enjoy no matter which canon you're familiar with!

If you had tracked Crowley down in the days following the Apocalypse* and asked him where he saw himself in two years’ time, the answer would not have been “Oh, I quite fancy standing in front of a classroom of adolescent children having been invited to Career Day by the Antichrist.”

But then life has a funny way of sneaking up on you.

“Good morning small hu—children.” The lighting in the classroom was already dim and with his sunglasses it was nearly impossible to see, but Crowley could make out Aziraphale giving him a thumbs up from the cluster of adults at the back of the room.

The demon tugged at his sleeves and poured a little power into his charismatic smile. “My name is Anthony Crowley. Adam asked me to come in because his father is busy today.” After taking a moment to contemplate the horror that would be Adam’s  _actual_ father coming in for Career Day, Crowley went on. “I am a rock star.”

For the first time the children actually sat still and paid attention. Aziraphale looked shocked but Adam grinned and nodded in approval. The Them all listened with interest.

“Yes, I know I don’t look it,” Crowley gestured at his pristine black suit and red silk shirt, “but I’m not on tour right now, so my stage costume is at the cleaners’.”

Crowley struggled to hold back laughter when he heard his angelic counterpart sigh loudly. “I perform under the name—under the name—well, I can’t tell you my performance name!” he rallied. “Then you might go around telling people my real name and I’d have fans following me all the time. Such a mess.”

“You are not a rock star!” Wensleydale piped up, and Crowley suddenly realized why they had been paying such close attention.

“What?”

Pepper scowled. “You’re lying. You’re not really a rock star, you’re a—”

“Bookseller!” Adam interjected. The Them fell silent. “Mr. Crowley sells books with Mr. Fell, in London. He’s just playing a joke.”

_What a stunt to pull, my dear,_ a disapproving voice murmured at the back of his thoughts.

_What, you want me to tell them what I really do? At least I didn’t pretend to be a magician._

That shut the angel up. Crowley gave a forced bark of laughter. “Ha! Of course you’re right, Adam. Yes, Mr. Fell and I… collect… old books…” He grimaced.

_Did I see a fireman come in earlier?_

_…_

_Yes._

“We worry constantly, actually, because the place is such a fire hazard. In fact, if it were to ever go up in flames—”  _again_ —“a fire fighter would have to come and rescue us both! Oh, look, I’m out of time, but what a lovely introduction to—you!”

Before he had time to blink, the fireman was at the front of the room explaining how his hose worked and Crowley and Aziraphale had slipped out into the hallway.

“You’re the one who liked the idea of being godfathers so much,” Crowley hissed as his snakeskin shoes squeaked softly on the polished stone floor. “Remind me why I had to go up there?”

“It was your turn.”

“Well, now it’s  _your_  turn again, so don’t expect me to chaperone any dances in the near future.”

Aziraphale huffed. “They’re nice children, you know. You could put in some effort.”

“They’re not my responsibility. Or yours.” Of course, the demon would never admit that he liked the Them. Such a powerful force, teetering on neutral ground, just waiting to be nudged in the right direction… not to mention the trouble the four of them caused, even when they  _weren’t_  engineering the Apocalypse.

Aziraphale knew Crowley’s thoughts but only hummed thoughtfully. The Bentley waited, gleaming in the sun, outside the low brick building. It was another day on Earth. Their responsibilities were behind them for the time being.

Crowley turned to the angel and smirked. “Can I tempt you to some lunch?”

* * *

 

_* This would have been difficult, mind you, considering how much time he and Aziraphale spent putting up protection wards in various small towns worldwide until they were sure the whole thing had blown over._


End file.
